


Weave

by Phoenixrising2014



Series: Damask [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixrising2014/pseuds/Phoenixrising2014
Summary: This is the story of Greg and Alia's friendship. How it starts, how it grows, and what they learn about themselves, each other, and the man they, unknowingly, both love.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Damask [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730449
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Geometry





	Weave

_Header - Yarn woven at the beginning of a project to provide a firm, even surface to start one's weaving._

Greg leaned over and put his hands on Sally's desk to get closer to the laptop screen and what she was trying to show him. _Mycroft sodding Holmes. 'Gregory, darling, you need reading glasses.' 'Allow me to make an appointment, my dear.' 'Glasses will in no way diminish your beauty, Gregory.' Always, always had to be right!_ He continued to lean and squint as Sally explained.

“Guv, you get any closer and I’m going to start thinking you’re one of those sparkly-in-the-daylight American vampires looking for an afternoon snack.”

Greg stood up, took a step back, and smiled menacingly, “Christmas, Donovan. Christmas _is_ coming and I’m the one who signs off on the duty rota.”

She rolled her eyes, “For Christ’s sake Greg, just go down to the chemist’s and pick up a cheap pair already!”

“Get on with your report, Sal. And maybe, _maybe_ , I’ll stop on my way home.” Greg had to admit Sally had a good idea. He hadn't even thought to buy "off the rack." _Guess I’ve gotten spoiled living with Mycroft._ Ten quid was a lot easier to swallow than the hundred (or more) Myc was likely willing to spend on the frames if said glasses were lost or smashed _._

The two were still at Sally’s desk talking about the case when a sudden hush fell over the bullpen. Greg and Sally looked at each other, perplexed, and then glanced over their shoulders.

 _Bloody hell!_ Greg thought. He saw the same thoughts flash over his sargeant’s face. _What's the Chief Super doing down here and who’s he talking to?_ He put his hands on his hips and spoke quietly to the lino, “I do not have time for this nonsense.” The man had been riding his arse ever since he’d been cleared of impropriety in any of the cases Sherlock had assisted with as though he was being personally punished for making the man look like the idiot he often was.

“Better find it,” Sally leaned over and chimed in under her breath, “ ‘cause he’s looking this way. 3, 2, …”

“Lestrade!”

Greg raised his head, turned around, and smartly replied, “Yessir!” while simultaneously fighting the urge to vomit about the ingratiating smile that had traitorously found its way onto his face.

The bellowing bull lumbered his way over to where Greg and Sally were standing; the blond woman in slim fitting battleship gray slacks and an Oxford blue button down blouse gracefully followed, but more slowly. Her eyes strafed back and forth across the room; a soft, small, easy smile rested on her lips. That smile grew just a bit when intercepted by the other officers in the room.

She was about 15 feet from where Greg stood when her gaze settled on his face. The thoughtful consideration remained there longer than was comfortable or polite. A moment before Greg gave in to his need to break the line of sight, her eyes began slowly and methodically making their way down his body as if she were frisking him, mentally. His prior experience with Sherlock and Mycroft had taught him the easiest and fastest way through was to not hide and not fight. Greg took a deep breath and let the examination proceed.

Strangely, the extended eye contact had somehow relaxed him. He didn't feel as though he, his life, and his abilities were specimens placed on slides and put under a microscope as most had upon first meeting Sherlock. Greg also didn't note the indignation he had felt when Myc blithely offered cash for information on his brother the first time they had met. That night, Myc was looking for weaknesses to exploit in hopes of keeping Sherlock safe. _Posh_ _git_ , he thought fondly. Although it had taken a few months, Greg was happy they'd been able to move beyond that misunderstanding. Now when Myc looked him over with his eagle eye, Greg recognized it stemmed from a desire to understand his needs and act to fulfill them as an expression of Myc's love and care. For Greg, it wasn't manipulative, _usually,_ but simply proactive. 

The words came to him a few moments later. This woman wasn't _searching_ for information; she was letting the data wash over her and absorbing it without judgment. _Whoever she is and for whatever reason she's here,_ thought Greg, _she doesn't seem the type to make decisions rashly._ He looked up through his lashes briefly to see she was just now stopping one definitive step ahead of the CS. His surprise must have shown on his face as her neutral countenance shifted quickly and discreetly with two distinct microexpressions. The well shaped cocoa eyebrow on the right lifted minutely in askance at the same time the left corner of her mouth pulled slightly upward and back. Not a genuine smile, but there was a flicker of warmth and humor underneath much like the Mona Lisa. 

They continued to furtively glance at each other and Pitts with amusement while he struggled to contain his umbrage over the lack of protocol displayed by the younger woman. Greg was certain she'd done it intentionally, but as she was obviously a visitor and could easily feign ignorance, the CS wouldn't be able to prove it and, hence, his frustration.

Finally, he bit out, “Lestrade, this is Alia Jaeger. She’ll be working with your team for a while. The Home Office has decided the entire NSY needs a shakedown.” The CS seemed particularly put out by this development. “This young woman is the tech expert that will be examining Homicide’s files. Ms. Jaeger, this is Greg Lestrade. He is the most senior Detective Inspector in the division. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you settle in.” Walking back towards the lift before either Greg or Alia had the chance to speak or shake hands, he called back “Lestrade, make sure to give her **anything** she needs; I’m going to be tied up with my own Home Office IT sychoph...person.”

An awkward silence followed. Alia looked down at her shoes. Greg looked over his shoulder out the fifth floor windows. Sally looked at them both, muttered, “I’ve got work to be getting on with,” and sat back down at her computer, purposely ignoring the pair.

Drawing in a breath, Alia looked Greg in the eyes as he turned to face her. “I’m sure you have questions.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest and stroking his bottom lip with his right thumb, he responded as graciously as he could despite the suspicion and worry about what the Home Office could be interested in skittering up and down his spine, “Yeah, yeah I do. Several.”

Lestrade's change in body language captured Alia's attention. _Defensive, but not defending himself. Unusual. His voice...nearly flat, resigned? Weary. Lestrade's been attacked. Recently. Emotionally or psychologically._ Alia nodded her head in understanding. To be helpful and forthcoming, the man would need as much honesty as possible. “I’ll do my best to answer them with as much information as I can, but there may be things I can’t disclose, either because I don’t know or have been instructed not to.”

 _Nothing new there._ “‘Course. My office?”

“Probably best.”

As they walked side by side towards his office, Alia looked up and asked, “How much trouble will I get into if I say your boss is a piece of work?”

Greg stopped almost immediately, eyes wide with shock, “What’s wrong with DCI Woods?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! You mean the guy I rode up with on the lift isn't your boss? Mr. I hate the Home Office looking into me isn't Woods. Oops," Alia giggled, embarrassed. "I’m _pants_ at the ranking system here. My mind keeps thinking in MI-5 terms."

 _MI-5? Maybe Myc knows something about this, or her._ "The guy you came up with is my boss's boss's boss. Whatever your lot is looking for has _that_ guy practically wetting himself. It's the only reason for him to be showing you around. He's desperate to make a good impression," Greg explained quietly and somewhat bitterly. 

"Yeah? Almost wish I was going to be digging through his records; I bet he has some things he doesn’t want anyone to see... I should talk to Krishna later.” There was a smirk on Ms. Jaeger’s face. Greg could feel one growing on his face, mirroring it.

“You’re _trouble_ , aren’t you?” he asked as he held open the door to his office.

“No, not really. Well...maybe. Sometimes? Only enough to make things interesting on occasion,” she replied as she walked past.

  
  



End file.
